A/N: Hola! This is based on post/65634115074/i-bet-octavian-will-try-to-kill-jason-virias this comic, but I'd read it after this if I were you. Spoilers, it does contain. An alernate title to this is "Jason and Reyna Calling Each Other Jace and Rey for Two and a Half Microsoft Word Pages", but that's a tad too wordy. Also, there might be a sequel chapter to this, so you might want to follow this story just in case. And hey, I loooove feedback, so review away!
Reyna and Jason and pretty much everything belong to Uncle Rick.
The battle was bloody, there was do doubt about it. As Jason ran through the hills of Camp Half Blood, he stopped and tried to help anyone he could. But there were so many that he couldn't save, it made him sick to his stomach.
The forces of Gaea had hit hard, paving the way for a nasty three way fight. Even with the Athena Parthenos, the Romans and Greeks were having a difficult time joining together. No one was really sure who to fight any more.
Jason had just finished lifting a small fallen tree from where it had crushed a young camper—probably just eleven or twelve years old—when he heard a terrible howl, like the tortured souls of Hades had decided it was a good idea to all wail at the same time. He stiffened, and his hair stood on end. Very, very slowly, he turned around.
There, with the battle raging around it, stood the biggest hellhound that Jason had ever laid eyes on. It stood at least five feet taller than average, and with twice the muscle. Its teeth were huge—about the length of Jason's arm—and its paws could probably crush Jason in one gigantic step.
Oh, and for some reason, it was on fire.
Jason wasn't sure if that was an intentional, like maybe Leo had set it on fire accidentally, or if someone had producing hellhounds made especially for nice, homey barbeques, but he didn't really have time to find out. It was looking straight at him.
Jason shot a nervous glance at the camper on the ground. She so, so young that he was surprised they would even let her into battle. Her chest still rose and fell with breath, and it looked like she wouldn't be unconscious for long, but both of her legs were twisted at unnatural angles, broken for sure. There was no way he'd be able to defeat this behemoth of a hellhound without catching on fire, and then this kid would be monster meat, but he knew someone wouldn't burn. If he could just find Leo…
He knew what he had to do.
Jason furiously waved his arms in the air, whistling at the hellhound, as if it were a normal dog.
"Hey, pooch!" he taunted. "Are you a chiwowa, or a poodle? It's hard to tell without your ribbons!" In a fit of madness that he would surely be mocked for later, he even started meowing like the worlds largest cat.
This tactic, however idiotic, worked. The hound snarled, charging towards him speeds he didn't expect. Jason did the logical thing; he ran.
After a few seconds, Jason looked back. Sure enough, the hellhound was completely interested in him, for better or for worse, and ignoring the fallen camper. He smiled to himself, knowing that even if he was going to die, that little camper would be safe for a while, until someone could get her away from the battle.
With that in mind, he glanced back to check how far away the hellhound was when he promptly tripped, as if his day wasn't bad enough. He twisted his body in midair, which turned out to be a mistake. He felt a blaze of pain shoot up his leg. When his vision had cleared from the fall, he recognized where he was; Jason lay just under the branches of his sister's pine tree, his ankle twisted in the huge, knotted roots.
His head whipped around in a panic. The super-sized hellhound was barreling towards him, howling with demonic glee. There wasn't time to think. Jason was armed with nothing but a broken ankle and his golden sword, which he doubted he would ever get close enough to use.
But maybe…he wouldn't have to get close.
Jason pushed himself off the ground enough to fling his sword at the hellhound like the world's most awkward javelin. He immediately flattened himself onto the ground again, covering his face with his arms, just in case.
A wailing moan confirmed his wild hope; his crazy plan had worked, and the hellhound had been speared right through the mouth with Jason's golden part-time javelin.
"Yes!" he shouted, pounding the air with his fist. Immediately, he winced in pain. Ankle, he thought. Pain. Right.
With as much grace (ha-ha) and care as he could muster, he twisted his ankle back into place. Good news: it had only been dislocated, and now felt worlds better. Bad news: It was hopelessly pinned under the tree roots. It almost looked like the dirt had risen up and solidified just enough to keep his ankle firmly in place. Gaea. Of course.
Jason cursed and scrambled around for his sword. Maybe if he could use it as a sort of shovel—
But there it was, yards away and covered in golden monster powder. Overall, not his best plan.
Without warning, the battle seemed to slow down. The campers around him fought monsters and each other in slow motion. Dust rose from the battlefield without a care as to when it lifted, and Greek Fire burned like a sped-up tape of flowers blooming. He swore he got tunnel vision.
And at the end of said tunnel was Octavian. The greedy descendent of Apollo screamed orders at the disbanded and confused Roman troops in his ridiculous high-pitched voice. He seemed to be on the verge of giving up trying to control them.
From the adjacent hill, his eyes locked with Jason. A slow, twisted smile played across his shallow face. His pale fingers shifted hungrily on the hilt of his spear, like a piano player warming up for a debut.
Gaea formed from the swirling dust and monster powder at Octavian's side. She placed a gentle and approving hand on his shoulder.
Percy saw the scene play out and knew how it would end. He fought madly towards the Augur, but there was no way he'd make it in time. Jason tried desperately to pull his foot from its natural prison to no avail.
Gaea smiled smugly. This was her plan all along.
Jason squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the inevitable. Octavian threw his spear.
And the impact never came. In its place, he heard a sickening crunch and the feeling of something warm splattering across his face.
Jason pried his eyes open and saw Reyna standing before him like she'd jumped there. Maybe she had, because Octavian's spear was sticking out of her chest.
For a moment, all he could hear was his heartbeat, and all he could feel was her blood on his face, and all he could see was his best friend turning red before his eyes, and all he could think was Reyna.
She smiled at him. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped towards him.
He was suddenly able to wrench his foot free in time to kneel and catch her in his arms. Although he'd never been more than an inch or two taller than her, at that moment she looked very small.
"Reyna, Reyna you're okay, I promise you're okay," he babbled senselessly. "I'm going to have to pull it out, okay Reyna? Reyna?" A tiny, almost unnoticeable nod was his only confirmation. Gritting his teeth, he tenderly flipped her over, braced his hand against her shoulder, and gripped the spear with his other. He pulled.
Reyna gasped quietly. She always was the brave one. He tossed the spear away. Jason cradled her head against his chest and fumbled in his pocket for some spare ambrosia. He couldn't be out, not when he needed it.
He triumphantly pulled a half-squished bag of ambrosia squares from his packet. With trembling fingers, he broke open the plastic bag and fished out the few remaining pieces. As he patiently fed Reyna the ambrosia, murmuring all the way, Jason was vaguely aware of Percy battling Octavian on the hill, not a drop of mercy showing through his green eyes. The war raged around them. Greeks fought monsters who fought Romans who fought Greeks in an endless loop. He and Reyna were like their own island in the midst of a hurricane, and even that was crumbling.
Reyna shuddered, her cheeks pale and blood running from the corners of her mouth. But for the time being, she was alive.
"Oh my gods, Reyna," he whispered. His hand pressed against the jagged hole in her armor, trying in vain to staunch the bleeding. "Why? Why?"
When she spoke, her voice was rough and gurgling at the same time. "Remember, Jace? When we were little? We promised—"she coughed violently, more blood spilling from her lips. "We would stick up for each other."
Jason's blood ran cold. An oath to keep with a final breath.
"Rey, no. NO. The prophecy isn't about you, this won't be your final breath, you've just gotta…" His voice broke. "You've just got to…"
"Octavian, the little bastard," she cursed. "I never thought he'd do it." Reyna's voice trembled. "I was wrong."
"He fooled all of us," Jason insisted. "We all underestimated him."
"And you almost paid the price." Blood was everywhere now. It soaked his shirt, and ran down his hands in rivers. Reyna's black braid turned even darker. Her glimmering golden armor looked rusted.
"Hey Jason," she murmured, already starting to slip away.
"Yeah?" Jason whispered. He brushed her hair off her forehead. She always hated it when her bangs fell in her eyes.
"I know you never loved me the way that I loved you. I'm okay though. I'm just glad you loved me at all."
Tears joined the drops of Reyna's blood on his face, making him look like someone painted his face a pink polka-dot pattern. He bent over her to kiss her forehead. "Of course I love you," he whispered, his voice gravelly. "You're my best friend. I can't get through this without you, Reyna. So we'll get through this together, okay? Just stay with me. Stay awake, Rey, for me. Please."
"Tell Hylla I love her, 'kay?" Her eyes were unfocused and darting, like she was searching for a handhold to keep her from falling.
"I won't have to," Jason insisted. "You'll see her after the battle is over."
"And be good to Piper, or I'll come back and haunt your ass."
In spite of everything, Jason chuckled. "What kind of person do you think I am? And you're not going anywhere, Praetor Ramirez-Arellano. Nowhere."
"And keep Nico out of trouble, will you?" she requested faintly. "He's a good kid. I don't want him to get hurt."
Jason squeezed her hand. He felt a vague squeeze back. "You're gonna have to keep him in line yourself. You're the only one he'll listen to."
"Stop, Jace." He wiped the tears out of his eyes, leaving red smudges on his face. "I knew I wasn't going to get through this battle. Your oracle told me. There was no way around it."
"No, no no. Not happening. I'm getting you through this Rey. Hell couldn't stop me."
"Tell them, okay?" Reyna's voice trembled and grew quieter. "Tell the Greeks and the Romans and the Hunters and the Amazons. Make sure that we didn't do it for nothing. It's time to stop running from each other."
"Please, Reyna. Tell them yourself. Please," he begged.
She mustered just enough energy to lift her hand and cup his cheek. He turned his face to it, as if a final connection could keep hers alive.
"Tell them," she finished, "that I was proud that I fought this war. Don't let them forget."
And with that, she was still. Her hand slipped from his face, and her dark brown eyes peered lifelessly into the sky looking for answers as the stars poked through the blue.
Jason clutched her to his chest, willing to give anything to trade places. He shouted and he cursed and he sobbed and he didn't care who saw him, because his best friend was dead in his arms.